The best recent conversational morsels:
My midwife and I were discussing the items and supplies I need to have in the house for the birth. When the issue of food came up, she said, "Make sure you have ice cream around. It's the perfect food."
To which I replied, "Well I've always known that, but thanks for making it official."
This of course led to me relaying this beautiful tidbit of information to anyone who would listen. So in analytical chem lab, while waiting to use the atomic absorption machine, I was telling a friend about the wonders of ice cream. Her response?
"You're having a home birth? That is so medieval."
A good friend whom I haven't seen in a while met with me last weekend for a bike ride. I've pretty much put the road bike away and ride exclusively on the mountain bike or the cruiser (more upright). This, combined with the ever expanding body parts beginning with "b" necessitate the wearing of running shorts and tee shirts in lieu of tighter, flashier, spandex options. In short, I look like, gasp, a recreational cyclist.
Amy looks at me and says, "Awww. You have a booby-do."
"When your belly sticks out more than your booby-do."
But the best was later that day when I was changing out of aforementioned recreational cycling gear in preparation for the shower, and Adam says "You finally look pregnant and not just fat."